


The Game of Life

by Gelsey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1450099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelsey/pseuds/Gelsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dumbledore isn’t dead but is in hiding with Sirius in a bungalow in Dorking, leaving Snape to take the blame. But Hermione is on the case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game of Life

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2005.
> 
> Written for mctabby’s Blame Each Other challenge ... and I blame this completely and totally on shiv5468. *nodnod* Not my fault at all ... My prompt was _Dumbledore isn’t dead but is in hiding with Sirius in a bungalow in Dorking, leaving Snape to take the blame. But Hermione is on the case ..._

Sirius looked up from where he was sprawled on the couch. He wasn't surprised to hear the door knob rattle as someone turned the key- it was that time of year, after all, and the bungalow had created a new room just the other day. It did shock him, however, to see Albus Dumbledore push the door open and gesture several trunks with animated feet to precede him into the room. He caught sight of the tail end of Aropos' robe as she flitted away before he could accost her.

"Albus," he said instead of shouting after the pesky being. His surprise was evident in his tone.

"Sirius, my boy, so glad to see you again," Dumbledore said. He wasn't twinkling quite so much as would be considered normal, but seeing as how the man had just been kicked out of the game after so long as one of the head players, Sirius wouldn't have blamed him if he'd been sour and bitter.

"Likewise," the younger man said, straitening from his lounging position. "I've been keeping up with the show, but I never seriously considered that you would be kicked off."

Dumbledore grimaced, closed the door, and ordered his luggage to relax. He took a seat in a plush armchair that clashed horribly with his purple robes before speaking. "Neither did I. The Fates must have something in mind, or the Elysians are up to something with the betting pool. I suppose I'm lucky that I didn't end up down there with them."

Sirius nodded. "Even they aren't allowed to shorten our life thread for the sake of entertainment in the Afterlife, thank the gods for that mercy."

Their conversation was cut short by the appearance of a soft light originating from an object in the center of the room. Immediately Sirius' attention was riveted on it, and so was Dumbledore's a moment later when he realized that the source, a large orb, was a larger version of the one he had in his quarters back at Hogwarts, which had been a gift from the Fates after his 'victory' during the first Game he'd participated in, back during Grindelwald's reign.

"Finally ... we get to see how you got here and what the Real World thinks- it's been about three days since the last Game Update." Turning backwards in his chair, he yelled, "Oi! It's on, you lot!"

There was a few faint affirmative shouts as the other occupants of the magically enlarged bungalow tapped on their smaller orbs to watch from their rooms. One set of footsteps rushed to the large living room, and slid to an abrupt stop in the doorway. Sirius grinned roguishly at the shirtless young man, whose fair face flushed at the sight of the former Headmaster.

"I'll ... um, be right back," he said. He padded away and returned a moment later with a shirt on. His eyes scanned the selection of seats available self-consciously.

Sirius settled the matter for him. "Here, luv," he said. Cheeks still pink, the blonde obeyed with a skittering glance to Dumbledore, whose twinkled renewed itself at the sight.

"'S nice to see you again, Headmaster," he said. "Didn't think you'd end up here."

"Neither did I, Mr. Diggory. I'm happy to confirm my suspicion that you are, indeed, here, and not truly deceased."

"Twas a relief at the time, sir, when Madam Lachesis intervened in that graveyard," Cedric said, settling back against Sirius' chest as the quality of light changed again. 

Their attention focused on the orb once more as the most important scenes of the recent happenings of the Real World, as the group called it, started to play, beginning with the locket and the cave up until Albus' funeral.

***

Hermione frowned at the books in front of her. None of this was making any sense. She flipped back through her journal of notes, the oldest of which were over a year old. She'd started this research at Harry's request just after Sirius' death, and the Headmaster's recent demise had only added a sense of urgency to the work. And it was that death that was confounding everything.

Ectomancy was a little explored field, as most wizards just weren't interested in how ghosts came into existence. She sighed- it was that wizarding attitude she didn't understand. Why they didn't want to know the mechanics of the world they lived in she didn't know.

All the books she'd read, the people she'd talked to, and the ghosts she'd interviewed, all of the sources agreed- Albus Dumbledore should have become a ghost.

But he hadn't, and damn it, it annoyed the hell out of her. All of the information, her Arithmancy equations, the people ... they couldn't all be wrong.

So that left two options: either A) Dumbledore's ghost was damn good at hiding, even from summonings that bordered on Dark, or B) the twinkling, meddling old coot was alive somewhere.

Which brought up a million questions, all of which Hermione was determined to answer. And Hermione on a mission was a force to be reckoned with.

***

"So ol' Snivellus was left to take the blame?" Sirius couldn't help it- he laughed.

Dumbledore’s eyes grew more serious. When his sober expression did nothing to stop the dark haired man's mirth, Cedric not-so-discreetly elbowed him in the gut. "Behave," the blonde muttered.

Sirius grunted and glared briefly, but in the end obeyed. "I'm not sorry Sni- fine, Snape- had to flee. I mean, he tried to kill you, Albus!"

"No, he didn't, Sirius. I believe it was probably the shock of his life when he went to our appointed meeting spot sometime afterwards and I didn't show up." At Sirius' blank expression, Albus explained further. "It was supposed to be a ruse, my boy, a ploy to get Severus even higher in the Death Eaters. I had no idea I would be voted out of real life by the Elysians."

Sirius' expression was disgruntled. He hated even thinking of the possibility that Snape was a 'good guy' in any way, shape, or form. "I still think he deserved it," he muttered. 

Cedric rolled his eyes. "Stop being such an arse, luv," he said. "And start being a good host, and let's show the Headmaster around now that the update is done. The others will be wanting to meet him."

Still grumbling, the taller man rose, gesturing for Dumbledore to follow. Cedric walked along silently behind them. Sirius proceeded to show the Headmaster to the empty suite of rooms that had appeared the day or so before. "You can decorate them however you wish," Cedric offered the information. "Occasionally Clothos will send stuff to us, and it's always to our liking."

"Where are we?" Dumbledore asked curiously as they left the room.

"Somewhere in Dorking, at the moment, I believe," Sirius said, casting a questioning glance over his shoulder at Cedric, who nodded in confirmation. 

"We move around a lot," the buff blonde explained. "The bungalow does, anyhow. Currently, there's our group here, and at least three other places on the street with people from other Games. The Americans are plain weird, especially that girl Mary Sue," he stated with typical British bafflement at the actions of Americans. "And most of the others are passingly friendly, but we don't intermingle much. So mostly, it's just us."

"Who all does 'us' consist of?" he asked.

"You'll see," Sirius said in a sing-song voice, the familiar look of mischief coming into his eyes. He stopped at a closed door just down the hall and knocked. At the muffled 'come in', he opened the door. "Look who's here, Barty," he said, and the man on the bed looked up.

"Why, Dumbledore!" Barty Crouch Sr. exclaimed. "After the news, I figured it would be you."

"Albus did look rather surprised at this revelation- he hadn't expected this man to be here. And so informal and relaxed looking. "Barty," he greeted pleasantly.

"Who is it, dear?" a female voice asked before its owner appeared in the doorway that Dumbledore deduced was to the bathroom. 

Again, he was surprised. "Bertha?"

It was, indeed, Bertha Jorkins, albeit a thinner, happier looking one. "Headmaster, nice to see you again," she said. "Though I'm sorry you were voted out."

"It certainly is a surprise to see you here."

She merely smiled and shrugged as she sank onto the bed next to Barty. "Best thing that could have happened," she stated in a content tone that he'd never heard from her in their Real Life. 

"Us," Barty corrected. "Once we managed to get over our differences- that pesky Memory Charm, you know- we found ourselves very well suited."

Sirius extracted them before they had to bear witness to much more lovey-dovey happiness. Down the hall, he gestured to his and Cedric's rooms- though the boy discreetly mentioned that his old rooms had only recently become a library about six months ago. Listening between the lines, Albus could tell that that was how long this aspect of their relationship had been going on.

There were only three other people- Delia Ross, an Auror and Order member that had disappeared and been assumed dead two years ago; Baxter Hughes, a low level Death Eater spy for the Light; and the last, whose door neither of the two younger men approached. 

"That's Quirrell," Cedric said reluctantly. "He doesn't associate with us or us with him. He's horribly scarred from that encounter with Harry and very very reclusive."

Again, Dumbledore was flummoxed. Apparently he hadn't known quite everything that was going on.

***

Hermione continued her research in ectomancy because Harry wanted her to, but she knew that nothing would change. So, in between that and helping the boys find and destroy the ever elusive Horcruxes, she stated looking for answers to where the Headmaster and Sirius were. She had finally determined that whatever fate Dumbledore had fallen to, Sirius shared it. She knew there had to be others as well, that she just didn't know about to calculate.

And yet, no one knew anything that could help her. It was infuriating, to have so many questions and absolutely no answers. And to top it off, no one around had the sufficient background in the necessary fields to be a sounding board for her ideas. She felt like Sherlock Holmes with no Watson, searching for clues only she could see and piecing them together by herself bit by painful bit.

She did get a giggle out of the mental picture of her in the Holmes-ian hat, but that was all she seemed to be getting out of this ridiculous situation.

_If only Snape were here, he'd know,_ she found herself thinking around Christmastime. She was curled up in a chair in front of the fire, a few of her journals in her lap at Grimmauld Place. She couldn't help thinking back to last year, her sixth year, of Hogwarts and the comfort of having most of her world laid out around her, even if that world did include Snape to some degree.

Sure, he was a traitor, but if anyone knew what had really happened to Dumbledore, he would. He'd been there, after all. Well, Harry had too, but he wasn't precisely the most reliable witness in a situation like that. The one thing she knew about Snape was that, traitor or no, he might be able to answer a few of her questions.

So, she made a plan ... she must find Snape, to be able to figure anything else out.

***

"I can't believe she's looking for _Snape_ , of all people," Sirius complained bitterly as the orb darkened and went out.

Cedric shot him a warning look. "It makes sense," he said quietly. "Professor Snape always had answers in the past. And look at it from her point of view ... he's the only other one she knows that supposedly saw the Headmaster die besides Harry that she has any degree of trust in. I mean, would you trust Fenrir? At least she's figured out that something isn't quite adding up."

Sirius glared and said nothing ... at least, out loud.

***

Hermione sat in the Leaky Cauldron, her cold hands cupped around a mug of hot chocolate. She was weary beyond imagining at the moment. Still no Snape ... and it had been over a month. She supposed her expectations were a little ambitious, but she was sure that given a little more time she _could_ do it.

She thumbed through her dog-eared journal for the millionth time, once again trying to see if she missed anything. The corner of her mouth quirked up as she read an entry she'd made in the midst of frustration months earlier:

_I can't figure it out ... it's as if the Fates plucked them out of the time line or something ..._

Her eyes widened a moment later. Shit, that was _it_!! An outside force had to be at work, and the Fates ... well, she wouldn't put it past them, she could see how they might love to interfere. She pushed away from the table and hastily dropped a handful of Knuts and a Sickle on the table before heading out. 

So distracted was she that she missed the dark eyes watching her from the darkest corner of the room, the figure within the shadows, wondering precisely what thought had just hit her.

***

Sirius, Cedric, and Albus stood next to the barrier that blocked them from actually entering Elysian Fields. Several physically manifested shades stood on the other side, among them being Sirius' brother Regulus. He was the reason why Sirius was currently in a bad mood- it never failed to make him angry when he saw his brother. He knew that the shade had been responsible for getting him voted out of the Real World.

However, they had come here to see if the Fates had deduced what Hermione was looking into- the three were pretty sure that she had somehow figured out at least part of the Game. The specters, though, seemed to have no answers for them. Only that if they had figured it out, the Fates probably had too.

"Some help they were," Sirius grumbled as they climbed back up the basement stairs, which no matter where they were, always led to the barrier.

Dumbledore shrugged. "It was worth the effort," he said, looking much happier than he should, in Sirius' opinion. 

"Is he ever unhappy?" he asked Cedric plaintively, to which the blonde merely laughed and shook his head.

***

Regulus smirked as the backs of his brother and friends faded into the distance. Of course he knew something more ... but he wouldn't tell his good-for-nothing brother, that was for sure. Not when it was so much more fun to annoy the hell out of him.

"I do wonder, Lachesis, how close the girl will come," he said to the invisible woman behind him.

She shimmered into existence, the Mother with her pleasant beauty and womanly curves. "She's already too close," the Fate said. "Be sure to start weighting the polls immediately, we want the threat gone as soon as possible."

Regulus nodded. "As you wish," he said.

***

She had worked so hard, and in the end, he had come to her. She would be angry if she weren't so tired. "So you didn't kill him?" Hermione asked the Potions Master once again.

"I already told you," he snapped, "no, we had an arrangement- a special spell to look like Avada, but without the effect. It was only after he failed to show up that I found out he was dead."

She paused, wondering if she should confide in this man, this supposed traitor. No one else was willing to listen to her far out theory, though, and she was getting desperate. "I don't think h's dead," she said, and quickly continued before he could interrupt. "He would be a ghost if he had. All my equations point to something else, something to do with the Fates."

His eyes widened as he thought. He was reluctant to admit it, but it made some odd sort of sense that clicked in his gut.

"Bugger ... how does one deal with the Fates?” he muttered, thinking aloud.

"I don't know, I really don't," she replied, the know-it-all for once out of ideas.

***

"You what?! With that murdering traitor?!!" Harry shouted at Hermione, arms waving wildly.

"I'm desperate, Harry!" she yelled back. "I'm so close to figuring it out ... _we're_ so close ... he didn't kill the Headmaster, Harry- Dumbledore's not even dead!!"

The angry set of her friend's mouth, the hard glint in his green eyes ... suddenly she doubted if she could get through to him. But she had to try. 

"Harry, please, listen ... we think the F-"

As she tried to complete her sentence, a large explosion made them both jump, wands coming out immediately. They ran towards the source of the noise, and were suddenly confronted with a group of Death Eaters. 

Harry cursed long and loud. "See what your trust has done, Hermione?!!" he shouted. When he received no answer, he turned to look ... and was appalled to see her lifeless body, cause of death clearly marked by her blank stare, not two feet behind him. "Hermione?!! Noooo!!"

***

The last thing Hermione had expected when she had rushed into the fracas with Harry was to be grabbed by a young woman and whisked away somehow, in a manner of travel she couldn't identify. It wasn't Port Key, nor was it Apparition. She was still contemplating what had happened when everything came into abrupt focus and the young woman let go of her.

"What-" she started to ask, but the maiden hushed her, merely beckoning her to come with her. She led the way to a door to a pleasant looking bungalow and rang the bell. A moment later the door was opened ... by none other than Sirius Black.

"Sirius?!" she said.

"Hermione?!" His face was a study of shock, but it had nothing on hers. "Clotho," he greeted the Fate, not quite politely but not rudely either.

He gestured for them to enter. Everyone was in the living room by chance, and they all turned to look at her. Hermione was still processing the name he had addressed the woman with, and was reeling by the fact that it was indeed a Fate.

They greeted her happily and sat her down, letting her wallow in her shock for a long moment. "What is going on?" she asked faintly.

"You, my dear, were voted out of Real Life," Clotho said, the spinner's voice as smooth and beautiful as her face. 

"Voted ... what? You make it sound like some Muggle reality TV show," Hermione said.

"Sounds 'bout right," Baxter agreed. "Only we're all- or most of us," he said, shooting a glance at Dumbledore, "Are unknowing contestants." Word had gotten out that Dumbledore had known of the game, having participated in it before and 'won'. The reward was, apparently, success in life and knowledge of future games. The others hadn't been pleased at the knowledge that he'd known what was going on, but it did go a long way to explaining his seeming omniscience in Real Life.

"But ... but this is _Life_ we're talking about," she protested weakly.

"My dear, haven’t you ever heard that Life is just one giant game?" Clotho asked with a smile and a laugh.

Hermione's face resembled a storm cloud. "Think of it this way, dear," the Fate continued. "At least you got to find out what was going on."

Somehow, that wasn't as much comfort as Hermione thought it was meant to be. What did comfort her was that the Spinner seemed to have no idea that someone else had a clue as to what was going on. Not that Harry would listen to Severus, though ... 

Her hopes were dashed a moment later when a surly looking Snape was pushed through the door by the Crone. The two looked at each other and simultaneously said, "Bugger."


End file.
